


we're burning down the highway skyline

by your_bespoke_psychopath



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, because why not?, young!eleven and young!river
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bespoke_psychopath/pseuds/your_bespoke_psychopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘You know,’ he starts casually as he takes an experimental sip of his cocktail, ‘I can tell how old something or someone is by licking them.’<br/>River opens and closes her mouth a few times and just stares at him, having the weirdest expression on her face. It seems that he finally managed to make River Song speechless. There you go, he can tick that off of his bucket list.<br/>‘I don’t even know what to say to this,’ she finally replies, carefully setting her drink on the table. ‘I mean, that’s one skill you can really test on me, sweetie.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're burning down the highway skyline

**Author's Note:**

> written for Jo's prompt: 'Young!River/young!Eleven because there’s not enough of it.'
> 
> there you go, Jo. I hope you won't be disappointed.

The invitation comes on the psychic paper. Written in a neat handwriting he’s learned to recognise, signed with ‘ _xx_ ’ – he really doesn’t need anyone to tell him who the author of this message is.

River Song.

For a moment, he stares at the coordinates she just sent him. A location and time he’s supposed to go to – not that he’s going there. No way. Never. He’s not going to run to River whenever she feels like calling him: he’s not her servant _or_ her puppy _or_ her driver. He’s a strong and independent Time Lord and he doesn’t need any annoying archaeologist to boss him around. Besides, if he knows anything about River Song, it’s this: wherever she goes, trouble follows. And he doesn’t like trouble: he stays out of it. Well, he tries to stay out of it and most of the time he does it badly, but he tries, okay? The intentions are there.

Although… Maybe he should go to her. Who knows? Maybe the message is a desperate cry for help? Maybe River is in danger and he needs to save her? His hands are already flying over the console, pulling the levers and pushing the buttons, putting in the coordinates from the message. Deep down inside he knows that River doesn’t need anyone to save her – when it comes to rescuing, she does more than fine on her own. But he’s not going to admit that he’d just like to see her. Not that he wants to see her – he doesn’t, it’s just-

Okay. Fine. He might want to see her, but just a little bit. He wants to see her in the way one wants to see an old acquaintance – the ‘ _oh, I wonder how that old fella Bob is doing_ ’ way. Except River is not an old acquaintance of his – he barely knows her. Sure, he knows that she’s brave and incredibly smart, tough and yet caring. There are so many sides to her that he has yet to discover and understand – and that makes him kind of scared. But what makes him even more scared is the fact that he _wants_ to discover all these secrets hidden inside her. Whether he wants to admit it or not, River is a mystery he’s itching to unravel. Something pulls him towards her and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

His thoughts are interrupted by the TARDIS landing noise. Okay, enough thinking. It’s time for action! He glances at the scanner to see where he is and frowns a bit. Posi-star? Really? Of all the places in the universe, River wants to meet him on Posi-star in the late 67th century? Not that there is anything wrong with Posi-star. It’s a nice little planet, a new home for anyone who may need it. Posi-star is well, _positive_. Everyone here is nice and polite but on Monday mornings everyone has the right to be late for work and be grumpy if they wish to; if you spend the night eating cakes and ice-cream, you’ll never gain weight; buses are always on time and there’s no such thing as traffic. This place is like a paradise – an actual paradise, not just something that hides hell under a nice name. Posi-star is wonderful, but just a tiny bit… _boring_. In the last 54 centuries there was no violation of any law. It seems impossible, but it’s a fact. The wildest thing about this place is its name: Posi-star. A planet with the word ‘star’ in the name. Whoever came up with it, must’ve been the life of the party. What could River Song possibly want to do on here? It’s time to find out.

One last look: hair is in place, but the bow tie needs fixing. Not that he wants to look good for River, he snorts as he straightens his bow tie and the lapels of his jacket. He just wants to look good, period. River’s presence has nothing to do with it.

He steps outside, only to run into a cupboard with various bottles. He examines them closer – juices, alcohol – and if he’s not mistaken, he can also hear music and conversations in the room adjoining the one he’s in. That all could suggest that he landed in some kind of a pub – and somehow that seems very River Song to him. Not that he knows her much – this him met her only a handful of times – recently when The Pandorica opened and before that in Byzantium. He tries not to think about the first time he met her because- It’s not the time for that. He shakes his head and walks to the door that leads to the main area where, hopefully, River is.

He spots her almost immediately, but it’s not that difficult if you consider all that hair. She’s sitting at a table for two, with her back turned to him and even though he is a few feet away from her, he can see all the empty glasses in front of her.

‘I am not your taxi driver,’ he says as he approaches her. ‘You can’t just call me and expect me to pick you up from some pub.’

‘Someone has gone all strict,’ River says and she turns around. ‘I think I’m starting to like it. And don’t worry, it’s not a drunken _‘pick-me-up’_ call. But if you continue with this tone, we could definitely turn it into a booty call,’ she says and takes a sip of her drink – something fizzy and hot pink and most probably highly alcoholic. He’s so fascinated by the colour of the drink – what beverage could have this shade of pink? – and it takes him a while to process her words.

‘River!’ He says in a strangled whisper as he sits on the chair opposite of hers. ‘You can’t say things like that in public! Someone might hear you!’

‘In public, you say? So it’s okay to say these things in private?’ River asks and smiles in a way that makes him a bit uncomfortable – but he’s not sure if it’s good or bad uncomfortable. It takes him a few moments to get the meaning behind her words – and it may be because he’s too busy contemplating his reaction to her smile.

‘River!’ He exclaims again and feels his cheeking turning bright red. ‘You really can’t- You shouldn’t say things like that! They’re inappropriate!’

‘And since when you bother with appropriateness?’ River laughs throatily, but her smiles slightly fades when she takes a better look at him. ‘ _Oh no_. You are young. There go my plans for an evening of fun.’

‘I’m not young,’ he replies heatedly. ‘I am over 1000 years old! And I look-‘

‘Very underage,’ River cuts him and finishes her drink in one gulp. ‘It’s a miracle they let you in here!’

‘If I’m so young,’ he says mocking her tone,’ then why did you invite me here?’

‘I didn’t invite you here! It was you who invited me here!’ River throws her hands in the air. ‘Posi-star! Of all the places!’

‘I know! Why would you even think it’s a good place for a meeting?’ He shakes his head.

‘It wasn’t me who came up with this idea,’ River replies through gritted teeth.

‘Yeah, right,’ he snorts. ‘You can deny it all you want, but I have a proof here,’ he adds and pulls the psychic paper from a pocket of his tweed. He waves it in front of her nose, but to his surprise, River doesn’t look ashamed at all.

‘That’s all well, sweetie, but you must’ve forgotten about this,’ she says in a deceptively sweet voice and looks for something in her tiny bag. After a while – it shouldn’t take her this long to find something in a purse so small, she must be doing it on purpose – she pulls out a letter and hands it to him. It’s a letter written on a fine and thick paper in the shade of the TARDIS. There are coordinates written on it – coordinates for Posi-Star – and they are written in his handwriting.

‘Well, I didn’t write that,’ he shrugs.

‘Neither did I write that,’ River says and points at the psychic paper in his hand. For a few moments they just stare at each other, hoping to make the other admit their lie. But then he understands and he can see recognition lighting up in River’s eyes.

‘ _Oh_ ,’ they say at the same time.

‘It would seem that our future selves decided to prank us,’ he says slowly, mentally cursing the future him who – no doubt – is now laughing at his misery. Somehow, he doesn’t find this situation amusing at all.

‘Yeah, it would seem so,’ River replies with a smile that seems slightly forced. For a few moments, neither of them speaks and he is pretty sure he has never felt so uncomfortable in his life – or at least this incarnation. He tries to come up with some conversation topic, but nothing good comes to his mind. Surely, River wouldn’t be interested in hearing about reversing the polarity of the neutron flow or how he’s planning on repairing HADS… And he’s not going to talk about archaeology with her! That would be just a waste of time.

‘So, you’re going to stay or leave?’ River’s sharp tone stirs him from his thoughts. He looks at her to see a guarded expression on her face. He knows this expression – he has seen it before, but tonight this carefully blank expression on River’s face is slipping. It’s like she hasn’t yet learned to keep the mask on. He doesn’t have the time to think what it all may mean, because River speaks again. ‘You have to tell me. Because if you’re leaving, well, there’s a few people I could spend my evening with.’

Her gaze wanders around the pub and stops at quite a few specimen – of various species and sexes: there’s at least one Ood, a Silurian, a Sensorite and a small group of Dæmons. Quite a selection if he’s to be honest. But River’s eyes stop when she spots a wih-ter.

‘He looks nice,’ she says with a bright smile. ‘Don’t you think?’

A nice looking wih-ter? That’s some kind of understatement, he thinks sourly. Wih-ters are a warrior race, they’re incredibly strong and dangerous in battle. It is said that they can fight even if they are seriously injured and that one wih-ter can take down ten of his opponents – no matter what species they are. Their bodies are made mostly of muscles and the rumour is that they’re incredible lovers. He could tell River all of this and add some background of wih-ters’ history, but instead his mouth choose to say something else.

‘Look at these two massive horns on his head,’ he says slowly, feeling a tiny bit jealous. Why can’t Time Lords have horns? Horns are cool! ‘These things are huge!’

‘I heard that horns are not the only things that are huge when it comes to wih-ters,’ River says loudly and in a perfect wih-terian.

He gapes at her in panic. Has the wih-ter heard her? If it has, what is going to happen now? Will it go on a killing spree and murder everyone in the pub? Will it kidnap River and make her its slave? He lists all the possible disasters that can happen in the next few minutes, but what happens is not what he’d ever expect. The wih-ter turns around, looks at River and smiles at her. It lets out a loud grunt of what seems to be approval, turns back to the bartender and mutters something his heavy and harsh language. A moment later the bartender arrives with a large drink on a tray and he sets it in front of River as he whispers ‘ _the gentleman at the bar sends his compliments_ ’. If he knows anything about the wih-ters – and he does know a few things – the words the one at the bar said weren’t compliments, unless by ‘compliments’ you mean something lewd and totally inappropriate. However, River doesn’t seem to mind lewd and inappropriate, quite the opposite. She smiles and waves at the wih-ter, taking a sip of the cocktail standing in front of her.

‘Have you decided?’ River asks him with a raised eyebrow. ‘Leaving or staying?’

He looks at her, at the cocktail in front of her, at the wih-ter at the bar who’s still grinning at River – and he thinks he should stand up and go back to his TARDIS. There’s nothing for him here – River clearly doesn’t want to spend time with him (at least not _this_ him), she has already found someone else to entertain herself with, and for gods’ sake, they’re on Posi-star! There’s nothing to do here! There’s a whole universe waiting for him! What even is he doing here? Granted, to actually have some fun, he’d first have to wake up Amy and Rory. Which would be a big mistake since Amy doesn’t take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night – even if it’s not technically a night. He’d have to wait until they wake up and that could take some time. He could tinker with the TARDIS, but the old girl doesn’t really like it. He could… Stay here and get to know River  Song better. Not that he wants to – he knows all he needs to know about her. But if she’s going to be in his future – and he knows she will be there, he can’t imagine it any other way – he could use some additional knowledge. Call it research if you want to.

‘I can stay, I guess,’ he says, trying to sound slightly bored and suave. ‘It’s not like I have anything better to do right now.’

He expects a snarky comment from her, a retort that he doesn’t have to stay if he’s so busy – he expects anything but the radiant smile River gives him. For a second he feels like he’s witnessing a birth of a new star – her face is so bright and full of joy that it nearly takes his breath away. _Wait a mo’_ – did he just compare River’s smile to a birth of a star? What is wrong with him? Where did that come from? What’s next? He’s going to start describing her skin as golden? He shakes his head and tries to black these thoughts from his head. He’s being ridiculous, but thankfully River hasn’t noticed it as she’s too busy shouting orders at the bartender.

‘A space vodka for me and the most outrageous cocktail you have for my friend here,’ she says loudly enough for the whole bar to hear. ‘And oh, put all my drinks on his tab. He’ll be paying.’

‘River, uhm, there’s a- Uhm, I don’t think I have money,’ he says in a panicked whisper when the bartender puts their drinks in front of them. ‘I am actually pretty certain I don’t have any money on me.’

‘We’ll think of something,’ she winks at him. ‘Come on, drink! You have to catch up with me.’

‘I don’t think that’s possible,’ he replies and eyes the line of glasses in front of her. ‘And I don’t drink alcohol- Wait! River, this drink sparkles! It sparkles in all the colours of the rainbow! And it has this little umbrella in it! And four- No, five maraschino cherries! And is it edible glitter?’

River laughs out loud at his delight. It’s probably the first time when he sees her so carefree and he can’t help but stare at her, slightly mesmerised. In this moment she seems like an entirely different person to the River he knows.

‘You know,’ he starts casually as he takes an experimental sip of his cocktail, ‘I can tell how old something or someone is by licking them.’

River opens and closes her mouth a few times and just stares at him, having the weirdest expression on her face. It seems that he finally managed to make River Song speechless. There you go, he can tick that off of his bucket list.

‘I don’t even know what to say to this,’ she finally replies, carefully setting her drink on the table. ‘I mean, that’s one skill you can really test on me, sweetie.’

‘Huh? Why would you want me to do that?’ He asks slightly taken aback. ‘Sure, I could do that, but it is quite unsanitary.’

‘I- Never mind,’ River sighs with regret. ‘You’re too young.’

‘See? Here’s the thing! I’m not the only one who’s young here!’ He points one of the paper umbrellas from his drink at River. ‘You are also young!’

‘Spoilers,’ she replies with a slight shrug and looks down, pretending to be looking at her nails.

‘Ha! I knew it!’ He exclaims and bounces excitedly in his chair. ‘You’re young! I haven’t met you this young before!’

And it’s true – he realises this now. River sitting in front of him is young. Not that he knows how old she really is – and how old she was when he met her before – but it’s the youngest version of her he’s ever seen. He can see it clearly now: the unguarded expression, the freshness of her face and the joy and fire burning in her eyes. He can nearly smell the energy and life force on her. There’s also something else – when he met River before, she has always looked at him with certain… tenderness and familiarity. This one? She looks at him with hunger written all over her face. She looks like she’s ready to devour him in one bite and make him enjoy it.

Scratch that. She looks like she’s ready to devour the whole world and make everyone their minions. And he should find this as exciting as he does.

‘Fine, maybe I am young- _ish_ ,’ River replies carefully and licks her lips. ‘So what?’

‘Nothing,’ he replies gleefully. Finally! He’s not the young one. They are both young! So many possibilities! ‘Right. Does this happen often? You know, our older selves sending us to places together?’

‘Spoilers,’ River says again, this time with the annoying know-it-all smirk he has learned to hate.

‘Not this word again!’ He groans out loud and raises his eyebrows when River snorts. ‘What?’

‘You have no right to complain about me using this word,’ River grumbles and waves at the bartender who nods and brings them another round of drinks. ‘After all, you’re the one who- Well. _Spoilers_!’

He harrumphs, faking his displeasure, but secretly he’s glad that there may be a day when he uses ‘spoilers!’ against River. Oh, what a glorious day it will be. He can’t wait for this day to come.

‘You know, I don’t mean to be rude,’ River says casually, ‘but you’re different.’

‘Different than who?’ He asks and starts on his second drink. It’s so good! He feels like he could down a dozen more of these things.

‘You know, older you,’ River tilts her head. ‘You are the same, but you look and behave different.’

‘Good different or bad different?’

‘Not sure yet,’ River downs her drink in one gulp. ‘But to be honest, right now you kind of look like a puppy.’

‘Oh, oh! Look at you, Miss _I don’t mean to be rude_ ,’ he says mockingly and maybe a bit too loudly. ‘I may grow out of looking like a puppy, but you will always look like a slightly electrocuted poodle! And the future you? Still rude and a dreadful _know-it-all! Look at me, I know everything!_ ’

‘At least I’m not the one who dresses and behaves like a grumpy grandfather!’ River narrows her eyes. ‘ _River, you can’t do that! River, it’s unreasonable! Look, someone is shooting at my TARDIS because of you! You can’t go around and insult The Sontarans! They are dangerous!_ ’ She says it all in a muffled and nasal voice – a tone that is meant to imitate his, he supposes.

‘I don’t sound like that!’ He exclaims and feels that everyone at the pub is staring at him. ‘And you really can’t go around and insults The Sontarans! They are dangerous!’

‘See? There you go! I knew you’d react like that!’

‘Of course you knew that! You are an insufferable know it all!’ He says in a voice that sounds shrilly even in his own ears and looks at River, who looks about as annoyed as he’s feeling right now. She opens her mouth to say something, but they’re interrupted by a quiet but rather harsh sounding voice.

‘You both sound like utter tossers,’ a Zygon sitting in a table behind theirs says. ‘No one here wants to hear your domestic. Could you please shut up?’

They both look at the Zygon, then at each other. Finally, River speaks up.

‘Sorry mate,’ she gives him a tight smile. ‘We got a bit excited, that’s all.’

The Zygon turn around, muttering something like ‘ _Humans! They never learn to behave like a civilised species!_ ’ under his breath. He looks at River and she must feel the question in his eyes, because she shrugs and explains.

‘Hey, that thing looks like an illness-ridden genitalia. Never argue with something that looks like an illness-ridden genitalia, that’s my rule,’ River says.

‘That’s an interesting rule,’ he smiles into his drink despite himself. ‘Have any other rules?’

‘No, not really,’ River winks. ‘I think we can safely say that both of us – future us, I mean – are assholes. So maybe we should just… Disregard this whole thing and part our ways. Unless you want to stay for another drink?’

She looks at him with such hope in her eyes that he just can’t bring himself to leave her. He nods his head.

‘Sure, why not?’ He feels that he’s smiling – a wide, broad grin that must make him look like an overeager idiot, but he just doesn’t care about it. River smiles back at him and once again waves at the bartender.

They have their drinks.

Then they order another round.

And another.

And after that, the conversation just flows. They exchange stories – he tells her how he nearly got expelled from The Time Lord Academy thrice and how he really misses the clothes his sixth incarnation wore. River tells him about that time when she stole the Declaration of Independence and flirted with Anne Boleyn once upon a time. Funnily enough, it turns out that both River and he married Marilyn Monroe – and it was at the same Christmas party. The universe is really small.

He doesn’t really remember what happens afterwards, but he wakes up in his bed on the TARDIS. He sits up quickly – too quickly – only to realise that his jacket, shirt and trousers are gone. He still has his bowtie on and his screwdriver is tucked behind his boxers. River is nowhere to be seen and he’s not sure whether he should be happy or devastated about that.

‘Look who is up,’ Amy says in an amused tone and he flinches at her voice.

‘Why do you have to be so loud?’ He asks in a pained whisper.

‘I’m speaking normally, you’re just hungover,’ Amy says mockingly. ‘But worry not, Rory is making you breakfast. You’ll be fine in no time.’

‘Time Lords don’t have hangovers,’ he whispers and groans at how dry his mouth feels. It’s like he swallowed a bucket of sand.

‘Well, at least one of them is suffering from it right now,’ Amy rolls her eyes at him.

‘Where is River?’ He manages to croak out.

‘She dragged your drunk ass here and then left. That was after she broke the two of you out of jail,’ Amy says and he nearly bolts out of the bed.

‘ _Jail?_ ’

‘Yes,’ Amy smiles gleefully. ‘Apparently, you two decided not to pay at the pub you were at, got in a fight with the bartender and the bouncers; then the both of you ran off and decided to crash a funeral while singing ‘ _Stayin’ alive’_. After doing that, you thought that it’s a great idea to strip in the middle of the city. You should be grateful that River picked up all of your clothes from the streets!’

‘Oh no,’ he closes his eyes. No, this can’t be truth. ‘We were arrested because of that?’

‘No, you were arrested because you both offended the president of Posi-star,’ Amy replies with a smile.

‘We offended him how?’ He asks, already dreading the answer.

‘You said that Posi-star is the most boring planet in the existence of the universe and that it sucks balls,’ Amy grins. ‘You repeated that part about sucking balls a few times and if I’m to believe River, while you were saying these words, you were grabbing your-‘

‘Yes, thank you, I get the picture,’ he falls back into his bed, feeling mortally mortified.

‘Don’t worry, Raggedy Man,’ Amy pats his head. ‘Everything will be fine once you sleep it off. And let me just tell you – you are really hilarious when you’re drunk.’

He tries to smack her hand away, but every movement causes his pain, so instead he just curls under the duvet and closes his eyes. He may be miserable and still a tiny bit drunk right now, but one thing he knows for sure: he’s never again meeting with River Song.

Especially young River Song.

(He may be lying about that).

**Author's Note:**

> I no longer know if that fic is any good or if it even makes any sense. hope it's not pure crap. all typos/mistakes are mine. 
> 
> the fic title comes from 'when we were young' by The Killers (bc if you're going to be a cliche, go all the way).


End file.
